


Future Masterpiece

by PinnacleChoi



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, I cackled sorry, Masochism, Masochistic reader, Mentions of Dismemberment, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of rough sex, Murder, Profanity, Ravishment kink, Read at Your Own Risk, Reader-Insert, Sadism, Slut Shaming, Threats, Vagina Shaming, psychopathy, yes you read right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinnacleChoi/pseuds/PinnacleChoi
Summary: Just a vague oneshot for Celi who just got into TEW 2.Stefano has issues, but he still gets love... Too bad he struggles to not cut you up like all the rest.
Relationships: Stefano Valentini/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Future Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [c31in3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/c31in3/gifts).



The guy was a complete and utter psychopath but that didn't stop him from being a good, _and very dangerous_ , fuck. The more you evaded him, the angrier and nastier he would get whenever capturing you again.

There was nothing he wouldn't do to humiliate you. He would make you lick the very ground he walked on and would press his foot on the back of your head to the point of pain. His insults would rain down on you as you shivered on the floor like the greedy being you've become because of him. 

He didn't know that you only angered him because you got off on it. Or so that was what you told yourself everytime he'd slap and insult you before he'd cut your clothes off with his always bloodied knife. 

You did your part well of crying pathetically whenever he found you, of begging him to stop. It only made him more aggressive and he would snap with at you with his accented voice to _"be quiet or I'll cut your head off and make sure no one ever finds it" ._

He never mentioned how wet you were every time he shoved his cock inside of you. You suspected that he knew that you enjoyed it as much as him and only played along. Despite his fury he never killed you like he swore he would.

It was all just threats and aggressive sex before he let you go free every single time. You didn't delude yourself about him letting you escape, of course. You knew he killed others. There were countless articles about his "art". He was quite proud of the anguish he caused among models and other young women in the city. 

They feared him. They knew that he could dismember them grotesquely and make them into sculptures of bloodied limbs. That they'd become "art" that didn't even resemble former human beings. 

That they would eventually look like nightmarish monsters, sewn together and contorted to make something otherworldly. 

It was only a matter of time before he grew bored and did the same to you. Sometime in your future you would be one of his art pieces. This was something you were absolutely certain of. The way he'd hold on to that knife of his everytime he took you pretty much shouted it at you. 

He was aching to cut you up like all the others even while fucking you. 

The only reason you were still alive was because he seemed to be entertained by you. You didn't want to be jealous thinking that maybe you weren't the only one he fucked that way. He perhaps had other victims he hunted down to taunt and let his frustration out on sexually. 

You would always limp after your encounters with him. He always handled you roughly, pulling at your legs until your muscles strained to get better angles to thrust hard inside of you until you'd feel him tightly against your cervix. 

There was always pleasure in the pain he caused. You'd see his maniacal hateful glare above you and how his sweaty locks fell over his forehead as he snarled and cursed at you. The muscle around the puckered scar of his missing eye would look taut the few times you saw a glimpse of it with each of his jarring thrust that would move his side parted hair. 

He would be moving furiously above you, his hips moving too fast for you to keep up with his angered pace. You were often surprised he hadn't actually broken something inside of you. 

He'd call you a whore everytime time you came. With each orgasm you'd convulse under him and around him and he'd insult you for milking him in that manner. Even comparing your vaginal walks to a hungry mouth suckling at him. Perhaps that was the kind of "art" he had in mind for you for when the time for your life to end finally came. 

_A grasping mouth._

Then he'd come and it'd be over. Whatever anger he'd had would vanish and he would look at you like he wasn't truly seeing you there underneath him. His twisted stare with one single working eye would be so eerily relaxed yet blank. 

_Did you feel shame?_ Yes, you did everytime you regretted it was over. Just the sound of him zipping his pants up and leaving you laying on the ground with your legs spread made you feel cheap. 

His semen was always copious and seeping out of you. It would still be warm everytime he'd leave you without another word. It made you wonder if he left so quickly without looking back at you because he felt ashamed as well. 

As if finding pleasure was something to hate yourself for. 

You didn't think you'd ever understand Stefano Valentini or what other secrets he kept hidden. But one thing was certain, you would entertain him until he decided to make you into his art. 

And that you were willing to accept him using you until it was all finally over. 

**Author's Note:**

> I picture him into extremely dirty threat talk. Like he's disgusted you get off on that shit. Yes, he's shaming you (as he should) . Sorry if it ain't all good. If I had gone into super details like I usually do it'd become a damn multi chapter.😂
> 
> Might go over it later to fix typos that slipped past me, etc. I'm not used to writing reader inserts like AT ALL. 
> 
> Please leave a kudos and/or review if you liked!


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